


Shit Happened, Maybe We Won't Die

by Cgfloyd8, Nerd7809



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: All of the Fuckery, All of the Snark, Good Ole Southern Slang, Im Gonna Add More Later, Lots of Cursing, M/M, My First Fanfic, New Body Who Dis, No Clue What Im Doing, Not a Canon Friendly Story, Shit Meet Fan, Siblings are Evil, Sorry Bout The Format, Talk like a Sailor, Too Many Inquisitors, Twin Inquisitors, gender swap, take the tags away from me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-07-17 10:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cgfloyd8/pseuds/Cgfloyd8, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd7809/pseuds/Nerd7809
Summary: Twin sisters Lynn and Gayle are playing games and eating junk food. Things happen and they end up in Thedas. Things are weird and are gonna get weirder. Probably gonna change this description after a while, maybe add a few tags. Who knows?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is probably not gonna be posted on a schedule. I apologize in advance :)

   The quiet click-clacks of buttons fills the room, interspersed by screams of men and clangs of metal from the screen. Various wrappers and cans litter the small table between the two figures sitting in front of the TV, the harsh light shinning on their glasses. One of the figures slips out of her chair, carefully making her way across the small loft towards the kitchen, as the other remains captivated by the game. She returns, only to flop on to the thin carpet next to the table, popping open yet another Coke in the process. With an exasperated sigh she watches as her sibling tries to speed run the opening sequence of DAI for the fifth time that night.

  “You do realize a storms comin’ over the ridge don’t ya, Gayle? Wouldn’t be surprised if the power got knocked out again, would _hate_ for three hours’ worth of character creating to go to waist.” She said with a smirk. Gayle shoots her sister a look from the depths of hell itself as she pauses the game. “How about you don’t try to jinx me before I even get to _Haven,_ ya asshole!” The elder of the two chuckles making a grab for the controller in an attempt to make her twin take a break. “Now Sissy, where would be the fun in that?” “Oh, I don’t know Lynn. Maybe, ya know, in the _game_?”

  After pretending to fight for the controller Lynn relinquishes it to her sister as thunder rumbles in the distance. “You know this wouldn’t really be a problem if you didn’t take so long to create your elf in the first place, right?” Ignoring the low grumbles from the couch, she walks over to the window, looking out at the ridge across the highway. The sky resembles an angry toddler’s drawing if the only colors available are black and a very, very dark gray. “Gayle, how long do you reckon you have until you can save that?” she remarks, worry flitting across her face.

  “Um, four, maybe five minutes.” She replies distractedly. “Why, whatcha’ see?” Lightning flashes as Lynn goes through the room collecting various items in her sling bag, “well I don’t think you have two minutes mush less five.” Gayle’s response is drowned out by an immense bang and the duo freeze as the lights snuff out and the fans go still. Amidst the growling curses coming from her sister and the sound of rain falling ever faster on the tin roof, Lynn lets out a sigh and slowly goes around checking all the outlets, pulling the plugs as she goes. “I’m just gonna go ahead and say that one took out a line somewhere.”

   Gayle slings a blanket her way as she flips on her phone light, panning around the room looking for her boots. “You aren’t really going out there to look, are you?” Lynn glances over at her from the door with exasperation, “don’t you want to know what it hit? Sounded important, might end up having to call it in or something.” With a put-out huff, Gayle jams on her shoes, “I’m not gonna let your stupid ass get hurt alone, but we aren’t leaving the porch, you crazy heifer!”

   Neither notice an ominous low hum building across the way. The swirling wind and rain slammed into the women as they cautiously slipped out on the porch, their eyes darting about in the dark hunting for the limb or line responsible for their current situation. Lynn leans over the banisters on either side of the house one after the other, smiling in relief as she discovers the small home isn’t in danger of becoming a pancake curtesy of a wayward oak. She turns around to report the good news to Gayle, who is currently staring at the power pole across the yard with confusion. “Um, do you see that too?” Lynn glances over and gasps with shock when she sees the transformer, the metal glowing and shooting off sparks into the surrounding trees.

   “Ok I think it’s time to make that phone call I was telling you about. . .”, Lynn trails off as large bolts assault the surrounding tree line with apparent anger. Both turn to run in terror as the transformer begins to glow brighter and brighter, slipping and sliding on the wet, weathered old planks. As they slam into the screen door, a lightning bolt strikes the protesting transformer, making it emit a piercing whine. While the women scramble to open the door neither see the transformer begin to give way to the force attempting to go through it. They let out sharp screams as it explodes blinding them just before they’re both knocked unconscious, the door swinging free a moment too late.


	2. Chapter 2

_Man, I haven’t felt this bad since I decided it would be an amazing idea to mix pretty bottles of liquor at my birthday party. Why the heck did I sleep in my boots? Ugh. _Groggily, I attempt to toe off the heavy steel toed work boots to give my aching toes a bit off relief. The chill of the floor begins to make itself known through the side off my hoodie as I struggle to get my boots off without using much effort. _Dang it! This is why I sleep frickin’ bare-foot! Wait. . .why’s the floor so hard? _With a few mumbled curses I lurch up and freeze at my surroundings.____

___“You have got to be kidding me.” The vaguely familiar cell is dimly lit by a sputtering torch, the source of my discomfort is revealed to be what looks to be a thin rug over uneven cobbles. While my panic slowly builds I watch a few guards in a scarily familiar uniform walk around the common area. _Please tell me this is a dream caused by way too many play throughs in one night. _I pinch my arm and rub my eyes hoping for the best and I am not really surprised to discover that the action only produces watery eyes and a red forearm. _Wait, why are my arms so thin?!____ _ _

___I’ve always been a curvy girl, easily described as cuddly by some. Come to think of it, I got up way to easily to be as curvy as I am. Patting myself, I am met by toned muscles and find a flat chest instead of my squishy love handles and generous boobs. A low whine escapes my throat as I look down seeing a wiry male body instead of my own. Thoroughly freaking out now, I search for something to see my new self in and pause as I realize I’m not alone in the small cell. That elf looks kind of like the one my sister made. _What was his name? Mark? Mack? No, it was Marcus!__ _ _

___The Marcus look alike snorts in his sleep and rolls over with a yawn, stopping when he sees me half crouched a few feet away. “Ok I want to dream with Fenris or Dorian, not my sister’s stupid GQ elf.” He says with another yawn. “Well I’m sorry to bust your bubble there sleeping-not-so-pretty but I’m not so sure this is a dream Marcus.” Neither of us notice a guard leave the jail, to engrossed in our very fucked up situation. “What are you talking about? My names not. . . oh duh! I’d have to be a guy in my Dorian dream.” I finally can’t hold my filter back any longer, “Do you _see _Dorian?! Why would your little fantasy be in a _jail cell _anyway? If you’re not Marcus then tell me who the fuck you are you idiot!”_____ _ _

___“Easy there Clint, calm down,” he drawls as he ignores my death threat of a glare, ruffling his caramel brown hair. “Dorian’s probably gonna save me or some shit. Or he would if you weren’t here, threes a frickin’ crowd. My names Gayle, not that it matters to you, since this is a crappy dream, Clint.” I flop down against the bars of our cell and try to under stand how the fuck she’s missing the obvious here. “Hey Einstein, if your name isn’t Marcus what do you think mine is? I’d give you one guess but at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if you needed about five." I look over at my twin’s new self since he/she has decided to ignore me for the time being it. The night before, I watched as she fought to make him look as realistic as an elf can, in the sense that he is, as she put it, “perfectly flawed”. “Marcus” was created with long caramel locks, glowing yellow eyes, and a nice bronze tan. For some reason my sister insisted on gifting all of her characters a few subtle scars, this one was given three. The largest of them looks to have barely missed taking his left eye, dissecting his left eyebrow and skipping across his left check. The second, rides low on his right jaw, stopping with an upward tilt as it reaches a third of the way up his cheek. The final and smallest scar slips up and dips into the edge of his bottom lip, just coming shy of making a dimple._ _ _

___Unfortunately, my sister’s comfy clothes followed us in to Thedas. Here I sit next to a fully-grown male elf, with impressive battle scars, wearing fluffy pajama pants. And not just _any _fluffy pants. Oh no, these just happen to be a pair of _majestic _red and blue checkered thing-one, thing-two themed pajama bottoms. These lovely things are tucked into a black pair of men’s Harley Davidson biker boots, and the contrast is a bit shocking to be honest. All of this insanity is topped off with a somber gray hoodie that has its share of holes. _I can not wait to see what everybody thinks of all of this.______ _ _


	3. Chapter 3

   There’s not really any good way to tell time down here in the jail. I’d hazard a guess that it has been an hour or two since we noticed that we both have a mark. Once that lovely tid-bit came to light we unanimously decided to just swap the sister title to brother for the time being for simplicities sake. In the scope of things, it wasn’t really worth fighting about, that and it stopped a few awkward questions from coming to light. So, the story we decided on is simple, we’re fraternal twin brothers who can’t remember what happened. _Not that that’s hard to fake since we really have no idea why we’re in Thedas._

   Once Marcus stopped ignoring me, I had him describe what my new face looked like. I can tell I have ink black hair in the same style he does and that my skin is glow-in-the-dark pale. Not much of what my twin says is really a surprise, I mean I did create this character. According to him I had annoyingly perfect skin, a face he wanted to hit, and eyes that were red in the middle and yellow on the outside. Not that I can trust that, since we are siblings and that would be an excellent chance to fuck with someone. Unlike Marcus I had on practical clothes when everything apparently went to shit. The only thing that might get me some strange looks is my t-shirt, which has the definition of the word fuck. Of course, that definition uses the word itself around five times. We discovered that we had either lost all the random things in our pockets or someone had taken our things not knowing what half of it was. _I’m betting on the latter there. _ _I really hope they get to questioning us soon, or I might find out if its possible to die of boredom.___

 

Like that was some kind of cue a door slams somewhere above us. Angry stomps can be heard echoing from the hallway. Cassandra burst into the jail looking like a thunder head, Lilliana lurking silently behind her. _Well I guess it was easier to keep us in a cell. Don’t think it would’ve been as dramatic to have us piled together in the middle of the floor._ We step up to the front of the cell, making sure to stay out of grabbing distance. Of course, I zone out a bit just watching both of them and miss part of Cassandra’s questions. “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now!” _Don’t say it please!_ Marcus, of course, doesn’t hear that and just has to say, “I mean, will you not if I say please?” Letting out a groan worthy of Cass, I facepalm and begin to pray that they’d rather have two people to fix things rather than slim down their chances. “Ok, excuse my idiot brother, he probably hit his head or something. Please don’t stab him, he's not annoying all the time. We don’t remember what happened or how we got here. And if one or both of us can help ya’ll out we will.”

 

   Lilliana takes the moment to step forward and pace in front of the cell, her chainmail glinting in the light. “Do you really not remember?” I let Marcus take over with the canned answers from the game as I watch Cassandra wave to a guard with a big key ring. “Go to the forward camp Lilliana, I will bring the prisoners.” With that she pulls her sword as a couple of guards tie our hands before we are led out of the jail up to the chantry. The building has more rooms than in the game, but it’s in the same basic layout. As I step out and rub at my watering eyes Cass keeps talking, to me it sounds a lot like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Looking up at the breach I have a second to think,  _that_ _looks_ _alot like a green toilet,_ before our marks rudely interrupt with a crack and flare of pain.

 

    _Damn it! Stupid things been numb till now what the hell?_ I can hear Marcus next to me on the ground hissing out his own curses. “Every time the breach grows so do the marks on your hands, and it is killing you.” _Gee, ya don’t say?_ “We theorize that those could be the key to stopping the breach. . .” “Yeah, I already said we’d help so lets just get on with whatever we have to do”, I rumble out as I drag my sorry ass out of the dirt. She huffs out an “as you wish” and leads on, keeping up her spiel as we go. Both of us tune her out in favor of watching the people along the path in case they decide they want to have a bit of justice on their own.

 

   Thankfully, nothing is thrown or shot at us and, like idiots, we take off running toward the bridge that breaks in game once she cuts our bindings. Lucky for us she just takes off after us till we fall down when the breach lets out another crackling pulse. _You don’t have to tell us the pulses are coming faster, we definitely noticed_. Cass takes the lead, all the while telling us everything she thinks we need to know about the craziness going on, we don’t notice the big rock headed our way till its too late to do much about it.

 


	4. Chapter 4

_People definitely aren’t meant to roll like tumble weeds._ I hit the ice of the lake like a bug on a windshield, and Marcus crashes into me like I’ve volunteered to be his personal landing pad. Cass yells something I don’t catch, being to busy gasping for breath and all. “Man, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be!” Marcus says with a chuckle as he drags his bony ass off my rib cage. “Come on, get up already! I want to see what we get!” __You can’t let the demons have your brother. You might miss him . . . eventually.__

   I scrape my self up and limp towards the pile of rubble already under attack by Marcus, hoping something useful will actually be there. Every once in a while, I glance over in Cass’s direction, just to make sure she’s still breathing. Seeing her make a kabob out of a shade and some-kind of sludge monster, I decide she can take care of herself. Marcus is making weird ass happy noises a few feet away, so I leave him to it. Rolling a few rocks off a crate, I find a nice set of daggers made out of some kind of black metal with what looks to be a matching sword.

   After rummaging around in the crate, I find the belt to hold my shiny new friends. Marcus runs up to me spinning some kind of dagger on a stick with a ball at the other end. _Oh god, does that mean Marcus has fire now? Well, this’ll be over quick._ “Look it Clint! I found a glaive! He is my staby-stab, and I dub him Herbert.” He says with look on his face that is both overly proud and serious all at once. A nasty green and black glowing puddle appears on the ground between us, spitting out two demons before I can slap some sense into my idiot brother.

 _ _ _Shit-Fuck-Fire-Damn!!!___ In Marcus’s case the fire was a literal concern, since he apparently was dialed up to eleven with Herbert-the-super-duper-stick. Now I’m dodging demons  _and_ fireballs, which is how I discover that I’ve had crazy ninja skills all along. “Marcus! Stop with the fireworks before ya barbecue my ass along with the demons, moron!” I think I hear some kind sorry from behind me. Pulling out one of my daggers in my right hand and my sword in the other, I’m hoping the new ninja skills translate to more than dodging as the demons try to give me a few scars to match my brother.

   Leading the demons out towads where Cass last was, I feel like I’m more flailing than fighting. _ _ __Pointy end goes towards the demons.____ My sword is knocked across the ice as one of the sludge monsters gets in a few claws to my side. I hear Marcus start running my way when he sees the cuts start to bleed. “Hey! Nobody hurts my brother except me bitch!” He proceeds to freeze one of them giving me the chance to push it over, shattering it across the lake. Cass takes out the other demon before it can take a cheap shot at my back. “Drop your weapons! Now!” she yells, keeping her sword pointed in my direction while keeping a close eye on Marcus.

  My dagger hits the ice with a loud clank and my hands fly into the air. “I ain’t leaving Herbert, he’s mine now.”, Marcus states with a proud grin. I have never wanted to face palm more in my life. “Maybe do what the bad ass woman with the big sword says before she decides I need a few more holes.” This is said out of the side of my mouth, so I get to see Cass fight a grin and I miss seeing what ever goes on with my brother’s face. I don’t look his way until I hear a more muffled clank and turn just in time to see his lip poke out and his eyes beg to keep his new toy.

 _ _ _“___ Never mind, keep them. I can not protect you. I should remember that both of you agreed to come willingly.” Somewhere around the middle of all that I noticed my side was getting kind of chilly. I gingerly pat along my ribs hunting for the cuts I know are there and feel more pissed off that my shirt's all cut up than is probably logical. Cass hands me a red bottle, which I assume is a health potion, and then wanders over in the general direction of my sword. _Good luck finding that in the snow bank._ Marcus mumbles something about scratches on a blade when I try to take the potion like a shot.

 _ _ _ _Oh, good God damn it! Why the fuck does this taste like Robitussin?!____ Of course, I gag on the potion, breathing in about a third of it. All I hear while in the middle of my wheezing is Marcus, laughing his ass off. “Oh! You can’t even take a potion right! Oh my gosh it hurts! Ha HAA!” Skin knitting back together in hyper speed is really weird, and itchy. By the time the potion has done it's job, I’ve got most of the sludge out of my lungs. Still a little achy, I just take off up the path, ignoring Cass’s concerned glances and my brother’s continued chuckles.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long on this one and thanks for the kudos Dieselsdestiny!

_Who the ever-loving fuck thought it was a good idea to give Marcus fucking fireballs?!_ I frantically scramble with the smoldering embers that were once my favorite shirt and hoodie, slinging them into a nearby snow bank with a smokey hiss. Glaring across the snowy clearing I try to convince myself that I actually might miss my sibling and that fratricide is bad. “Oops. . .,” He says with a sheepish grin. “You set me on fucking fire and all you can say is OOPS?!” “Well I don’t think you’d approve if said wow it got a little warm over there!” I decide to start walking up the worn steps behind me before I start getting stabby.

   Cassandra, who has been watching us both with more than a little concern in her eyes, hurries to get in front of me on the steps. “Come on I can here the fighting!” she bellows in my left ear. “Man, I wish I could.” I mumble under my breath. “Don’t worry just turn to the left to tune in,” Marcus whisper-yells. Cass, who is still running up the stairs like the Terminator on crack, chooses to ignore us only to my benefit. Slip-sliding our way to the top, we stop as we set our eyes on the first rift. _Green spiky ball of doom vs. heralds one and two, what could possibly go wrong._

   The answer is a lot, a lot can go wrong. “Marcus, I swear to sweet baby Jesus if you use fire one more time, I’m gonna slap the shit out of you!” He looks over at me like a wounded puppy, “What the fuck am I supposed to do then?! All I’ve got is fire stupid!” I take a moment to stab a wraith that floats to close to me, “Use the Force young padawan!” “The Force is NOT strong with this one.” He shouts with a pouty face. “Just try it, you didn’t always have fire genius!” Marcus closes his with a look of extreme concentration, holding his glaive like a very sharp baseball bat.

   With a yell he swings for the fences, sending a green wave of magic peppered with debris flying into everyone. Thankfully, Solas has apparently covered Varric and Cassandra in a barrier of sort, saving them from an unplanned flight into the crumbling ruin of a wall beside us, unlike me. Sliding across the icy ground, I flip over the remnants of a wall and slam into a tree. “Holy shit! I do have the Force! Oops, did you die?”

   With a soul deep groan, I drag my pathetic ass out of the not so soft embrace of the tree just in time for Solas to grab my arm. “Quickly before more come though!” Solas shoves my arm roughly towards the rift, making a magic rope appear in my hand. Thus, causes the worlds weirdest game of tug-of-war, with the magic and my hand as the rope. With an ear shattering screech, I rip my arm away from the gleaming crystal of the rift, simultaneously closing the rift and smacking Solas up-side the head. “My bad, wasn’t really aiming for you dude.” Solas just looks at me and I am suddenly glad he is under cover and can not wolf out on me.

   Marcus looks at me and I can feel him judging me from across the clearing. “Did you just. . .slap the elf?” he asks confused. I pretend the ground is a new and interesting discovery, “uh. . . no. Nope. Sure didn’t.” Varric fights back a few laughs, “Damn Chuckles. You’re making friends already.” Solas just rolls his eyes and starts checking Cass for injuries.  _Dude, I flew through the air shirtless, fix my boo-boos_. “Names Varric Tethras, rogue, storyteller, and sometimes unwelcome tagalong.” He says with a wink. Marcus finally makes it to our little circle walking by with a “nice crossbow dude” thrown over his solder. Varick stares at Marcus’s colorful pants for a moment, “let me guess, siblings?” I flop on the ground, absently picking gravel out of my knee. “Unfortunately. I’m Clint. The squeaky-clean dip shit over there is Marcus.”

   Marcus carefully inspects a section of wall before hopping up on it to sit Indian style. “Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t stay out of the way for shit.” He tells me snottily. The winter cold starts to seep into my gore and mud-spattered torso, so I scoot a little closer to a small patch of flaming debris. Not that I care to Identify what exactly I’m snuggling up to, judging by the smell. I ignore my twin and glance around, hoping to find an intact shirt. Failing that, I do note that Cass seems to be just fine as she loots the bodies around us for something of use.

   Solas is making his way over to me, hopefully to heal some of my many dings and scratches and not add to them. “My name's Solas, if there are to be introductions. . .” he murmurs as he reaches for my back with glowing hands. “What he means is ‘I kept those things from killing you while you slept.” Varick says as he rubs a smear of demon gore off Bianca. Marcus is now spinning his glaive between his hands over on the wall. “Thanks for that, and I really am sorry about hitting you. I was just trying to not get pulled through that thing.”

   I feel his hands pause, “What do you mean through?” My breath hisses through my teeth as he prods at my definitely bruised ribs, “It felt like I was pulling against something and I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I touched that thing.” He hums in understanding, straiting up and folding his arms. “I’ve healed the worst of your injuries for now, the rest should be taken care of by a potion.”

_Oh, goody more ‘tussin._ I tune out the rest of their conversation while I choke down another potion. Marcus runs through the dialog options from the game while he sits on the wall. I poke through a few of the bodies Cassandra was looking at earlier, picking out a leather cuirass without too many holes and cuts. I tug it off of the poor scout who won't need it any more, whispering apologies the whole time. Once that’s done I rearrange the guy into a more respectable position and take the armor over to a pile of snow to try and wipe off a little of the gore. The fits a little loose, but it’ll cover me well enough for now. Cass is just saying something about the forward camp as I come back to the group, nobody mentions my wardrobe change.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ya go, it rambles a bit. Thanks for the kudos evensoullivesforever, Elerrina174 and fjaka22!

   Thanks to the small rift, we were a bit more prepared for the demons between us and the forward camp. Marcus however was not any better at aiming away from the rest of us, either setting me on fire or throwing me across the battle field every. Single. Time. Varric and Solas have started betting on what was going to happen to me next, clearly not minding if I hear what they suggest. Once we actually reach the gates of the camp, I’m not sure who has won more and if Marcus is doing their suggestions on purpose for some twisted reason.

   “Since I seem to be your favorite target, Marcus your ass is going first on this one.” He looks at me with a smile, his clothes spotless as ever, as he spins his glaive like a baton. “Aww, I just thought you looked a little cold over there, all half naked and singed. But, in my defense I’m a ranged fighter not a close quarters kind of person.” Solas stops me from knocking my dear brother in to next week, with a little unwanted logic. “We don’t have time for Marcus to figure out how to aim to close that rift, besides I don’t think his aim is the problem.  The fault may very well lie with his staff.”

   I shoot both of them a glare and stomp off towards the various demons under the rift, preferring to stab things rather than find out what the new bet is. Miraculously, I’m not hit by any stray magic this time, which I was happy about until I realized that Solas had finally put a barrier over me. Either out of pity or practicality, the move saved him some work in the end. With that, we stumbled through the gate, collecting more potions as we went. I spot Lilliana standing by a table on the far side of the camp, and as one we wander over towards the make-shift command post.

 _Oh, I forgot about this asshole._ “Ah, here they come”, Chancellor Rodrick starts to rant and with that I decide to change things up a bit. “Aww did you wait for me? You didn’t have to do that, I’m sure there’s _a lot_ that needs to be done.” I’ve got my inner Georgia Peach tuned up to eleven, by the end of this he won’t know if he’s been complimented or threatened. “You shouldn’t even be here! You should be on your way to Val Royeaux to face execution!” _Man, his face is blotchy, bet he’s got blood pressure problems._

   “Alright I was gonna be nice but since you want to go there I will. Look here dumbass, the sky’s fucked and I didn’t do it m'kay? And frankly, you’re a member of the chantry, isn’t it your job to help all the people hurt right now? Even if it’s not YOUR specific job, you need to do _something_ other than bitch at everyone trying to get shit done. Hell, I’m a fucking prisoner and I getting more good done than you, what does that say about you _Dick_?” And with that I turn to Lilliana, “Sorry we took so long, a bridge broke. What do you need us to do?” Chancellor Rodrick sputters in indignation behind me, obviously not used to being dismissed so easily.

   Lilliana takes my lead, “We can take the path through the mountains, it’s the safest route.” Cass stops her there, “No! We should charge with the rest of our forces! It’s faster and we lost an entire squad on that path!” I let them fuss over the pros and cons of their options while I make my own plan. “Marcus, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I say with a smile. “What? That Dick is a dick and that we’re screwed?” he says, obviously not having paid attention to much of our conversation so far.

   “Well I guess you're not. How do you feel about a divide and conquer?” “Hmm.” He says with a thoughtful look. “Depends, do I get to  **not** climb the mountain? I would very much like to **not** climb the mountain today, or better yet ever.” “Well you’re in luck, there just happens to be a bunch of soldiers that need some fire power today.” Marcus pulls his glaive off his back, looking like a kid at Christmas. “Ooh! Can I actually use fire this time? If so then yes”, he’s currently bouncing with excitement, as Cass gives him a worried look.

   “Ok Lilliana, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going up the mountain with Solas, Varric and Cassandra to look for that squad. Marcus is going to go with the rest of y'alls forces, just make him go in front of everyone to minimize friendly fire. We’ll group up before we deal with the breach, that work for everyone?” “That was pretty quick,” Varric quips from the back of the group, Solas grunts in agreement. Cass obviously doesn’t like this, “No, I will go with Marcus. He shouldn’t be left to his own devices.” “Aww! I was just gonna burn stuff!” Marcus whines. “You're right, do that and don’t kill each other.” I say getting a few chuckles out of them all. We head out from the camp, separating at a fork in the road. As we head on up the trail, Marcus can be heard behind us. “I HAVE THE POWAH!! Ow, Cass that hurt damn it."

_They’re so doomed._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're ALIVE!! lol Here's another chapter. Thanks for the Kudos Mogehdian and Xaiael.

    As our group comes down the stairs we are greeted by scorched earth and melted stone. Smoke drifts across the ground, obscuring the bodies scattered across the clearing. They're frozen in poses of fear and agony like the ash figures of Pompeii. Numbly, we start making our way towards a fight in the distance, trying not to study at our surroundings too much. The green glow of a rift shines over a handful of troops as they fight a few terror demons.

    “Clint! Hurry! They broke Herbert now they’re after my fuzzy pants!!!” Marcus runs towards me in panic and terror trialing three demons behind him, dragging half of his precious glaive across the ground. _Damn this is gonna hurt_. My sword rips out of its scabbard with a hiss, as Marcus slides behind me. “Did you really have to bring me all of them?!” I joke, slashing away at the demons trying to stay between them and my brother. “You’re my favorite meat-shield and you won’t stab me on purpose or anything.”

    The demons shriek and disappear in flashes of light, revealing a smug Varric. “Aww Trouble, did they kill Herbert?” Hearing quiet sniffles, I turn around to see Marcus pouting and nodding slowly to Varric as he hugs the pieces of his weapon. I tune both of them out in frustration, reaching out to the rift. After a few tries it snaps shut, leaving me blinking spots out off my eyes. I whip around to chew Marcus a new one, and run face first in to a wall.

    My hands dart out, stopping me from landing on my ass, meeting cold steel. I look up in confusion, focusing on a red furred collar. I pet it without bothering to see who is wearing it at the time, not noticing that everyone around me has frozen in shock. As my other hand reaches to join the first in the fuzzy warmth of the fur a deep and slightly bothered voice comes from somewhere above my head. “Ugh, do you mind?” My stomach drops as I jerk up and away in one motion, realizing I have been petting Commander Cullen like my favorite Mabari for some time now.

    Cullen stands there in all his Fereldanly glory, pretty as a picture and built like a Viking. Currently his whiskey gold eyes are burrowing into my soul, probably trying to see if I am crazy, stupid, or a bit of both.

    Marcus of course, never one to be left out, walks up behind Cullen and ruffles his fluffy paldrons with a smile. “Wow it’s softer than it looks. . .”, he mumbles under his breath, making Cullen spin around and glare at him. Marcus looks like a Chihuahua facing down a Mountain lion.

    “It was too fluffy to resist!” he squeaks out, running back to hide behind Varric, who is grinning at our predicament. Cullen looks up at the sky, letting out a long sigh. After asking for patience from above, he turns to Cassandra who is walking up to us from the path. “I assume _these_ are the prisoners”, He says. _His tone just screams I’m done with this shit._ “Unfortunately, they tend to grow on you Commander,” Marcus looks at her with joy, “like a fungus.” She smirks as Marcus pouts with betrayal, “I thought we were battle buddies.”


End file.
